What The Cat Dragged In
by Dragons Weyr
Summary: Imelda lived a normal ordinary life, making shoes. She never expected what would happen after her cat brings in a most unusual creature. Stuck with her guest for the day, Imelda finds herself drawn more and more to this Hector. What will happen when it's time for him to leave?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** What the Cat Dragged in

**Rating:** T

**Spoilers:** none. AU.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Disney and the original creator of the comic I saw. If someone knows the name of the original artist, please let me know so I can credit properly. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended

**Author Notes:** I know several commenters (Or maybe just one person since you _**all**_ posted your requests in almost exactly the same way) on my _What ifs and Maybes_ series have been asking for a Coco/Zoro AU. I'm sorry I couldn't get something out by the time you requested. I was already working on this one. But never fear, I did start to get maybe an idea to do that so look for it in the future.

* * *

"Mreow!" A demanding meow from the workshop window yanked Imelda's attention away from the shoes she had been working on for hours. For some reason, the leather just wouldn't fit together to her satisfaction. She refused to do a shoddy job of it though. She was a perfectionist and had a reputation to maintain. So if she had to stay up all night to get it right, she would!

A second yowl accompanied by the sound of claws on glass drew her eyes to the window. It was her cat, Pepita, back from one of her nightly rambles. It was dark enough outside that Imelda could only make out Pepita's glowing eyes and white paws. With a smile, Imelda reached up to open the window for the grey tabby cat before going back to her work. She didn't pay any attention as Pepita jumped in the window and landed on the workbench beside her.

That was until Pepita dropped the _present _she had brought home right on top of Imelda's work.

A dead bat.

Imelda yelped and jumped away, giving her cat a disgusted look. Pepita had always been an avid hunter of small creatures. Mice, rats, shrews, even a mole once. Never birds thankfully. And she usually didn't bring her kills into the house. Typically Imelda would find the remains on her back porch where she could dispose of them easily and without mess.

"Pepita. That was not funny." She scolded. The cat just blinked at her before daintily washing a paw. Imelda rolled her eyes at the utter lack of remorse. She went to find a plastic bag so she could get rid of the dead body. There was no way she was going to pick up a dead _anything _with bare hands.

She felt a little sorry for the poor thing. Unlike most people, she liked bats. They ate mosquitoes and other bugs so they were useful to have around. And they were kinda cute in a way, not at all like little flying rats. And this one just happened to run afoul of _her _cat. She hoped it hadn't suffered long.

When she went to pick it up, plastic bag over her hand, she got a shock. The _dead _bat gave a squeak and wriggled feebly. It _wasn't _dead after all. It was very much _alive_. Hurt (there were scratches from Pepita's claws and teeth but hardly any blood), but alive at least.

_Now what do I do? _She thought as she stared at the creature. She had to do _something_. Since the bat was alive, she couldn't just dispose of it. It was kind of her fault it was hurt since it was _her_ cat that had brought it in. She couldn't leave it on her workbench either. And since it was well after midnight, it was also far too late to call animal control or someone who dealt with wildlife.

Finally Imelda rummaged around until she found an old shoebox. She made a sort of nest with some rags and put the bat in the box. She set the lid on top, but left it slightly askew so air could get in. That would have to do until morning. If the bat survived that long, she could call someone then. If it didn't, well, Imelda did everything she could.

She left the box on the workbench, picked up Pepita, and left the workroom, shutting the door behind her. There was no way she would be able to concentrate on shoes now, so she might as well give up for the night and go to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Imelda woke up groggy. It was early, the sunlight streaming in through her window. Imelda always woke early, no matter how late she had stayed up. The curse of having an east facing window. She really should have gotten better curtains for her bedroom windows. Nice thick ones. She thought that most mornings, but never got around to changing anything.

Imelda grumbled a little under her breath as she got up, put on her housecoat and slippers, and headed for the kitchen. She needed coffee. Pepita was sniffing at the door of the workroom, but followed Imelda to the kitchen without a fuss. The coffeemaker, which she had set up the evening before, was just finishing. Imelda filled Pepita's food bowl, poured herself a mug of coffee, before heading to the workroom to check on the bat.

"Are you still alive, _pequeño_?" She asked as she opened the door, more to herself since obviously the bat couldn't answer. Looking up, Imelda suddenly stopped short. And stared.

And slammed the door shut.

There was a man in her workroom. A _strange _man! There was a _strange __**man **_in her house!

Imelda took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and counted to ten. This wasn't real. She was dreaming. She was just imagining that there was a man in there. A hallucination brought on by too little sleep. It couldn't possibly be real. Imelda always locked her doors and she definitely remembered closing the window last night. Besides, she lived in a good neighborhood and had never heard of any break ins. She would open the door and nothing, _no one_, would be there.

Nope.

The man was sitting on her workbench, rubbing his head and looking very confused. He was sitting right where Imelda had left the box with the bat in it, in fact. His clothing was old and ragged, his dark hair messy, and he was barefoot, something that was almost as offensive to Imelda as the fact he was in her house in the first place.

He finally noticed her standing in the doorway. "Oh! …ah, _hola_. I… GAH!" Whatever he was going to say was cut off as he was forced to duck the coffee mug Imelda threw at his head. The mug hit the wall and broke, spilling coffee over the bench. The man quickly jumped down to avoid the spreading puddle. Standing up, he was a tall man, though as skinny as a twig, with a hawk-like nose and a small goatee on the end of his chin.

He started to back away as Imelda advanced on him, slipper upraised. She was skilled in the art of _la chancla_ after all, having learned it from her _mamá._ The man opened his mouth to say something, but could only yelp as she delivered the first blow. "Who are you? How did you get in here?! What are you doing in my house?!"

The man kept backing up until he ended up in a corner. "If you would just stop _hitting _me for a moment, _señorita_, I would _tell _you!" he cried desperately.

Imelda paused her attack, slipper still held at the ready, and narrowed her eyes. "Start talking."

"Well…" he said, eyeing her warily, "My name is Héctor and I… I'm not really sure how I got in your house uninvited." He looked away and muttered "That _shouldn't _have happened."

As he frowned in thought, Imelda couldn't help but rolled her eyes. Wonderful. A fool, or possibly a drunkard, had broken into her home. Well, maybe not a drunkard. Imelda couldn't smell any reek of alcohol coming off him. But certainly a fool with memory problems. "Do you _often _wake up in the homes of strangers?" she asked skeptically, folding her arms across her chest. Just then she remembered something and looked towards the bench where she had left the box with the bat. Imelda was sure it had been right where the man had been sitting and indeed the torn and flattened remains of the box were there. No sign of the bat however. Imelda rounded on Héctor. "How could you!? Bad enough that Pepita brought the thing inside, but did you have to _sit_ on that poor bat!?"

Héctor blinked and glanced at the bench as well. "Bat? Oh. That must have been what happened." Noticing her furious expression, he quickly backpedaled. "It's fine! The bat… it flew away! Yes. It was perfectly fine and just flew right out the window!"

Imelda didn't believe the reassuring grin he gave her for one second. She also ignored the little voice in her head that was wondering why it looked like he had fangs. "It just _flew_ away?" That was a complete lie, she was sure. The bat had looked barely alive last night. Besides, workroom window had a wonky track and was tricky to open if you didn't know how. She doubted that Héctor had been able to get it open from the outside, let the bat out, climb in, and close it again without Pepita alerting Imelda about the intruder.

That thought distracted Imelda for a moment. Pepita should have alerted her. The cat didn't like strangers and especially strange men. She didn't even like it when Imelda's brothers came by to visit and Pepita had known the twins all her life. And yet, she hadn't warned about Héctor. Yes, she _had _been sniffing at the door, but Imelda had assumed that was because of the bat.

Realizing she was getting distracted, she shook her head. "Whatever. It's not important now. What _is _important is that you are going to get out of my house right now."

Héctor's eyes got comically wide as she reached for his arm. "No! No, no, no, no, no, no! _Por favor, señorita_. That is a bad idea. I can't…" he begged desperately.

Imelda ignored his protests, and the fact his skin was far colder than normal, as she attempted to drag him from the room. Attempted being the operative word. Héctor was far stronger than he looked and wouldn't budge an inch. That made Imelda's temper flare. She was no weak woman after all. She never relied on anyone to move things for her. If something needed to be moved, by God she moved it herself.

From the outside, it was probably hilariously funny to watch. Imelda trying all her might to get this man out of her house. Héctor decidedly _not_ moving, but practically begging Imelda to stop. And since it seemed _he_ was as stubborn as _she _was, who knows how long the struggle would have gone on.

The curtain covering the window moved slightly for a moment, letting in a shaft of sunlight reflected off the neighbor's windows. It fell right across where Imelda's hand was pulling on Héctor's arm. Specifically where the end of his ragged sleeve stopped short of his wrist.

Héctor snarled in pain, brown eyes flashing red for a moment as he finally yanked his arm free. He backed further into the corner and cradled his hand against his chest, panting slightly.

Imelda froze in shock. She hadn't expected a reaction like that at all. No normal person should have reacted like _that_. Héctor's hand had burned from just a brief second of sunlight. Burned _badly_. Bad enough to blister which Imelda knew was a sign of third degree burns. And there was a faint sickly-sweet smell to the air, like burned meat.

Suddenly all the little things she had ignored before came flooding back. Finding Héctor in her workroom instead of the bat. Héctor's confusion over being in her home uninvited. His panic from her trying to throw him out. The fact his skin had felt _cold_. The _**fangs**_.

Héctor was not human.

"Y-you… you are…" Imelda took a step back, swallowing hard. Fear, an emotion she rarely allowed herself, coursed through her. Her hand tightened around her slipper even though it was now a ridiculously pitiful weapon against something like him.

A look of sadness joined the pain on Héctor's face as his shoulders slumped. He let out a small sigh and nodded, not looking at her. "_Sí_. I'm a vampire. A monster." There was something in that defeated tone that tugged at Imelda's heart. "_Lo siento, señorita_. I swear I mean you no harm, but I'm afraid that I can't leave just yet. Please, all I ask is that you allow me to stay until sunset." Only then did he meet her eyes again. His were brown again. "_Please_."

Even though she _knew _he was taller than her, at that moment Héctor looked small. The way he was curled in on himself, holding his injured hand. He looked like a kicked puppy, not the horrid evil creature of the night. And he hadn't actually _done_ anything to her. Well, he had lied about the bat, but all things considered that was understandable. It's not like he could say _he _was the bat. Especially if he was trying not to reveal his true nature.

Besides, throwing him out now would be the same as killing him. And Imelda just couldn't bring herself to do that now, no matter _what _he was.

"You promise? No funny business, right?" she eyed him carefully, trying to judge whether or not he was going to tell the truth. Should she trust him? _Could _she trust him?

A faint look of hope filled his eyes and he placed his burned hand on his chest. "On my honour, _señorita_." Then his expression became slightly mischievous. "Though most would say I don't have any. Being what I am after all."

She decided to ignore the bad joke. "Fine. But only until sunset." Imelda looked at his hand again. That burn really did look bad. And painful, all blistered and even black around the edges. "Come on, then. Let me do something about that hand."

Héctor blinked at her, looked at his hand, and then back at her. "Why? It'll heal in a couple of hours."

Imelda counted to ten and told herself _not_ to lose her temper at the dangerous supernatural creature. It wasn't a good idea. Okay, she had already gone after him with her slipper, but that was before she knew what he was. Besides that was a perfectly reasonable response to someone being in her house unexpectedly, vampire or not.

Suddenly she was aware that she was still in her nightgown and housecoat, it was far too early, and she hadn't even had a chance to drink any of her coffee before she had tried to bean him with her favourite mug. Gathering up what dignity she could, Imelda turned on her heel. "Well, don't come crying to me if it gets infected then." As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how dumb that sounded. He was an immortal being, he probably couldn't get infections. It didn't help that she heard a muffled snicker behind her as she marched out of the workroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I'm glad that people have enjoyed the first chapter. So without further ado, here's part two.

**Reviews:** _Ladyofthelake13_ – Thank you! I will admit that was one of the parts I had a stitch to write. _Guest_ – Glad you liked it. _Shadowvixen89_ – Thanks! _Toons Girl_ – Here you go!

* * *

A shower and clean jeans and t-shirt later, Imelda re-entered her kitchen to find Héctor having a staring contest with Pepita. The cat was sitting on the counter, switching her tail and rumbling in irritation. Héctor was perched on the edge of one of the kitchen chairs, giving the cat the most dubious expression one could give.

Sitting in her tidy little kitchen, the poor state of his clothing was even more apparent. The legs of the pinstripe pants were two different lengths. The jacket was missing a sleeve and the other was barely hanging on. The vest had no buttons, the kerchief around his neck was threadbare, and the dingy shirt was no better than the rest. And the style was decades old. Imelda didn't even want to think about his bare feet. For a vampire, his appearance was not what she expected. Weren't vampires supposed to be elegant and refined? Héctor looked more like a rag-bag. At least he appeared to be clean.

"Stop that! There will be no bloodshed in my kitchen." Imelda snapped as she got out another mug for her coffee. She would have to clean up the mess the other one made in the workroom later.

"I would never…!" Héctor exclaimed, actually looking offended.

Imelda couldn't help the smirk that twitched at the corners of her lips. "I wasn't talking to you." She replied as she stretched out a hand to scratch under Pepita's chin. The cat gave her a look but accepted the caress. Imelda poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter to drink it. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to get any closer to her _guest_ at the moment.

When she looked at him again, Héctor was staring at her with a look of intense longing. Was he… staring at her chest? Imelda narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He had promised not to harm her, but he had also admitted to _not _having any honour. She had thought that was a joke. "What?" she demanded warily.

"_Por favor, señorita, _I was just thinking that I could really use a drink." And he smiled winningly at her. Whether he meant it to or not, that smile showed off just how long and sharp his fangs were. A moment later, Héctor seemed to realize what he had just said and the smile disappeared to be replaced with alarm. Quickly he added "Coffee! I meant coffee! Not… not the other thing! I'm good… for _that_. I would just… really love a cup of coffee…"

Imelda glanced down at her hands, which _were_ holding her mug in front of her chest. She glanced back at Héctor. "You can drink coffee?" It seemed silly to ask, but she had never heard any stories about vampires drinking anything besides blood.

Héctor shrugged. "Well, I can't eat in the normal sense, but I can drink just about anything. Admittedly, to be nourishing, it does have to come from the _Living_. But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the taste."

That… actually made a little sense. So Imelda just dug out another mug and poured him a cup. Thankfully she had a large enough coffeemaker. She liked having several cups throughout the day. "What do you take in your coffee? Sugar? Creamer?"

The only warning she got that he had moved from the table was the sound of the chair scraping across the linoleum. Suddenly he was beside her at the counter, which made her jump. Héctor ducked his head sheepishly. "_Lo siento_. I'll take sugar if you have some to spare."

She raised an eyebrow. She wouldn't have offered if she didn't have any. Wordlessly she handed him the sugar bowl, only stare as he put four heaping scoops into his mug. Imelda couldn't stop herself from saying "Do you want some coffee to go with your sugar?"

A faint blush coloured his cheeks and he gave a slight chuckle. "What can I say? I have a bit of a sweet-tooth." He lifted the mug, nodded to her, and took a sip. Imelda noticed his hand was looking better. Still red and painful looking, but not blistered or blackened. Héctor sighed happily. "Ah! _Muchas gracias, señorita_."

"Imelda." She replied, realizing she had not given her name yet. It seemed rude not to, after all Héctor had given his already. At his curious look, she added "My name. It's Imelda Rivera."

"A beautiful name. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, _Señorita _Imelda."

Well, at least he was polite. Flirtatious but polite. The turn of phrase was a little old fashioned and it made Imelda wonder exactly how old Héctor was. He didn't _look _any older than her twenty-two years, but _that _meant nothing. Would it be rude to ask? Imelda wasn't sure. What sort of etiquette _was_ there when dealing with a vampire? She was sure that even her _mamá_, always a stickler for such things, would be hard pressed to answer that.

It sort of struck Imelda at that moment. She had a vampire in her kitchen. A _**vampire**_. Standing not even two feet away, drinking coffee with her. It was ridiculous. Downright insane. _Why_ did her life have to turn into Bram Stoker's imagination?

And what was she supposed to do with him _now_? Entertain him? She had work to do. Those shoes she had abandoned last night needed to be finished. Would he want to watch her work, or should she just park him on the couch to watch television so she could make shoes in peace. She could put him to work, she supposed, but did he have any experience with shoes at all, considering he wasn't wearing any.

Then, if things weren't weird enough, the doorbell rang.

* * *

Both of them turned to look in the direction of Imelda's front door. For a moment, Imelda blanked on who could possibly be ringing her doorbell this early in the morning. It wouldn't be a customer. She had a small shop in the plaza where she sold her shoes, took orders, and did fittings. She didn't open on weekends due to needing that time to work on orders. It was unlikely to be a neighbour. Then Imelda remembered.

Her brothers.

Óscar and Felipe were supposed to come over today to help out, as they did every Saturday. They were slowly learning the basics of shoemaking and had all sorts of crazy ideas for new designs. Most of which Imelda shot down as soon as possible. Considering that people walked around with miniature computers in their pockets, there was no need for clocks in shoes.

Today, however, there was a slight problem with having her brothers there. A slight problem with sharp fangs and a thirst for blood. All of which was immaterial, since her brothers didn't know any of that. All they would see was a strange _**man **_in Imelda's kitchen drinking coffee with her. A man they didn't know and Imelda had never mentioned before. And they would, of course, jump to a terrible conclusion. The _wrong_ one, but still a terrible conclusion.

"Oh, were you expecting company?" Héctor asked, setting his mug down. "Should I hide? I would suggest changing forms, but I'm pretty sure your devil cat would try to eat me again."

She ignored the comment about her cat, though Pepita gave what sounded like an affirmative meow. "It's my brothers." She explained quickly. She set her mug down as well, grabbed his arm, and started pulling him from the kitchen. Thankfully he complied with her wishes and allowed her to drag him along.

"Is it still improper for a young lady to have a man visiting her house unsupervised?" An amused grin crossed his face. "You're worried they may try to beat my up because they would think I have seduced you? I didn't think you would care so much."

She glared at him. "You have a far too high opinion of yourself. As if I would allow myself to be seduced by… by _anyone_." She said the last part under her breath. The idea Óscar and Felipe could beat up anyone would have made her laugh under any other circumstances. Neither of the twins was built any better than Héctor and they didn't have his supernatural strength. She saw him quirk an eyebrow at her choice of words. _Dios mio_, she hoped he wasn't going to take that as a challenge.

Héctor's brow then furrowed. "If they're not overprotective, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that they will ask questions I'm sure neither of us wants to answer." Imelda retorted as she pulled open a door. She did _not _want to have to explain the teasing the twins would give her if they found out about Héctor. Imelda had never had much of a romantic life. There had only been one serious relationship. If Óscar and Felipe learned she had a man in her house, she would never hear the end of it. It wouldn't matter that none of it was true.

The doorbell rang again and a muffled voice called out "Imelda?" There was a pause before a second nearly identical voice added "Is everything all right?"

"Just… just stay in here until I can send them away." Imelda ordered as she hurriedly motioned him inside. That should work. She could send the twins out for supplies. More thread and leather. And there were a couple of finished orders. She could get them to deliver those and…

While she was busy thinking, Héctor took two steps into the room and immediately turned to face her. There was a look of confusion and mild alarm now. "Uh… Imelda? This is your bedroom." He said, one hand raised a little like a student asking a question.

She rolled her eyes. "So what?" It was the best hiding place she could manage. The only other options were the workroom and bathroom, neither of which would do for obvious reasons. Her brothers would have no reason to go into her bedroom.

"_So what_?" He repeated, giving her an unbelievable look. "So it won't be any more awkward to explain if they find me in _here_?"

That might be a point, but there wasn't time to argue about it. "They won't." She replied firmly. Then she heard the sound of keys in the door as her brothers let themselves in. Hurriedly she hissed "Just stay in here and _be quiet_."

Héctor looked like he was going to say something, but Imelda quickly shut the door in his face. Just in time as the front door was opened by Felipe, Óscar standing at his shoulder as usual. Imelda whirled to face her brothers, trying to act as if she _wasn't _hiding anything. She wasn't sure how successful she was since both were giving her very curious looks.

"Óscar. Felipe. I… _Lo siento_. I... I overslept." It was a weak excuse. For all their lives, Imelda rarely if ever overslept. Briskly she moved away from her bedroom door, wiping her sweaty hands against her jeans.

The boys exchanged looks. "What's going on, Imelda?" Óscar asked and Felipe added "We thought we heard you talking to someone."

She hoped they didn't notice how pale she was getting. "Oh… There's no one here. I was… just talking to Pepita." The cat, now sitting on her cat tree in the living room, gave an annoyed yowl. Whether Pepita was trying to make Imelda's story more believable or was offended that she was being partly blamed for Imelda's odd behaviour, she wasn't sure.

Her brothers seemed to accept that explanation though. They shared another wordless look and shrugged in unison. Together, the three of them headed into the workroom. The shattered remains of Imelda's coffee mug were still scattered on the workbench along with the almost dry puddle of coffee. Imelda winched when she saw that. She had forgotten about it in dealing with Héctor and then her brothers.

"How did…" "…that happen?" the two asked in their typical twin-speak.

"Oh, that was just…" _a vampire_ "…a rat. It startled me this morning and I ended up throwing my mug at it." Imelda temporized. It was mostly true after all. She just hoped they wouldn't ask about the crushed shoebox.

"Brave rat…" Óscar commented.

"… to risk coming into Pepita's house." Felipe put in.

_Technically, Pepita brought him in_. Imelda thought wryly. That thought did make her wonder why Pepita had done so. And how had the cat been able to _catch _Héctor in the first place? "Never mind that. Help me clean it up and then we can get started."

She began to gather the larger pieces of ceramic. Felipe went to get the broom and dustpan. Óscar followed to get a damp cloth to wipe up the coffee. A moment later, both called her to the kitchen. Irritated that the two couldn't manage that much on their own, Imelda went after them. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw the expressions on their faces. Both looked like cats that had not only gotten away with the family parakeet, but a jug of cream and a fresh trout to boot. Óscar adjusted his glasses as Felipe stroked the edges of his thin mustache.

"_Imelda_…" they said in unison with identical smirks. "_Who's here_?"

Imelda swallowed. Then she narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "I_ told_ you." She blustered, "No one's here. What are you two talking about?"

If anything, their smirks got wider as they pointed at the counter. The counter where two mugs sat. Two half-full coffee mugs, one clearly marked by Imelda's purple lipstick. The two coffee mugs she and Héctor had left there.

She floundered for an explanation, but she needn't have bothered. The twins continued, each speaking in turn as was their habit.

"We already checked." "The one cup is far too sweet." "You always take your coffee black." "And it's still hot." "This means they were left not too long ago." "Probably just before we came in." "And we didn't hear anyone leave." "That means whoever it is hasn't left." "So, _hermana_, we have to ask again."

"_**Who**_is _here_?" They once more said in unison.

Her brothers really _were _too clever for their own good. Imelda was usually very proud of how smart they were. They always got excellent grades in school, they were incredibly inventive, and they were intensely curious. Right at that moment, however, Imelda could wish their cleverness to the depths of Hell.

Just then, there was a loud crash, a bang, and a thud from the other room.

Imelda closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Mentally she cursed whatever demon, saint, or witch doctor that had decided to _bless_ her with today. When she opened her eyes, she cursed again and bolted after her brothers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviews:** _McVey-Rivera1921_ – Oh, I know. The twins seemed to be able to read Imelda like a book. _Ladyofthelake13_ – The twins are only acting like the good younger brothers they are, of course :D

**AN:** As one of the reviewers noticed, I have taken my version of vampires from a book called _Children of the Night_ by Mercedes Lackey. I highly recommend checking it out if you like supernatural stuff. It's a slightly darker than her Valdemar books. But I've enjoyed it.

* * *

When she reached the scene of the crime, her worse fears were confirmed. There was Héctor, sprawled on the floor between her bedroom and the bathroom. He was glaring at her cat. Pepita was sitting not too far away, the picture of feline innocence. Imelda's brothers were staring at him with open mouthed astonishment.

"I was just using the _bathroom_, you devil cat!" Héctor hissed as he sat up. "_Aye, Dios mio_, blasted thing."

Imelda hung onto her temper by the merest thread. Was it so hard for him to follow orders? She had _told_ him to stay where she left him and be quiet. Was that really too much to ask? "What are you _doing_?" She demanded. "_Why_ did you need to use the bathroom?"

Héctor gave her a thoroughly exasperated look and shot back "I have an entirely liquid diet. What do you think?!"

She wasn't sure which of her brothers made the slight choking noise as Imelda felt heat rush into her cheeks. It was enough to alerted Héctor to the fact they weren't alone any more. He got that comically wide-eyed look again as he turned his attention to the twins. In the next instant he was on his feet, moving so fast that Imelda wasn't even sure how it happened. He smiled at them, being careful to keep his lips closed over his teeth.

"_Hola_ there, _chamacos_." He said brightly, holding onto one of his wrists. "You must be _Señorita _Imelda's brothers. She's told me so much about you."

Imelda almost made a rude noise over that lie. She actually hadn't told him anything beyond the fact she _had _brothers. She hadn't said they were her younger brothers or if she had more than two. She hadn't even mentioned that they were twins.

He should be able to figure out that last one on his own, if he had any intelligence at all.

"Funny…" Felipe replied and Óscar added "…she hasn't mentioned _you_." Both shot her pointed looks and Imelda bit back a groan. She just knew what the two were thinking. _This _was why she wanted Héctor to stay hidden.

"_Hermanos_," Imelda said slowly through gritted teeth. She didn't bother much to hide her annoyance over the situation. "This is Héctor. Héctor, these are Óscar and Felipe." And she pointed at each in turn even though it was unlikely that he would remember which was which. Hardly anyone outside of Imelda and their parents could, and even their _papá_ had trouble sometimes. "There. You've met. Now if you two don't mind…"

But the twins weren't listening to her. It was clear that they had already had a wicked idea that they were going to put into motion.

"Say, Héctor…" "It looked like we interrupted the two of you earlier." "So rude of us, really." "Perhaps we should…" "All sit down together and have a chat, all friendly-like." "What a great idea, _hermano_." "Why _gracias, hermano_."

Oh, no. No way. Not a chance. Not going to happen. "Absolutely _not_! That is…"

"…a_ marvelous _idea, _chamacos_." Héctor said over top of Imelda's protest. There was suddenly as much wicked amusement in his expression as in her brothers'.

That's _it_! She was going to strangle all three of them. It didn't matter if it would actually work on a vampire, she would find a way. She _really _must have done something to anger some higher power. If only she knew what that was so she could apologize and stop all these things from happening.

The twins moved to bracket Héctor and escort him back into the kitchen. He deftly stepped away from them and closer to Imelda, offering his arm to her. She gave him her best _I-hate-you_ glare, shot the same one at the twins, and marched into the kitchen on her own. Pepita growled lowly at the three males and went back to her cat tree, ignoring all of them.

* * *

The little table in Imelda's kitchen was crowded with four people sitting at it. Óscar and Felipe positioned themselves on either side of Héctor, effectively cutting him off from Imelda. Not that he needed to be cut off. She had her chair as far away as possible while still being able to say she was still sitting at the table. The coffeemaker was now half empty and the sugar bowl was sadly depleted due to Héctor's _sweet-tooth_.

For someone about to be interrogated by two clever and devious minds, Héctor was absurdly casual. He was completely at ease, sipping his coffee and giving Imelda sly glances. It was like he wasn't taking it seriously at all.

"_So_, Héctor…" Óscar started off. Felipe continued "…how did you and our sister meet?"

"Her devil cat tried to eat me." He answered as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say.

Imelda was _really _glad she wasn't trying to drink her coffee at that second. It would have definitely gone down the wrong way. As it was she nearly choked on her own spit. "She _wasn't _going to _eat_ you!" What on earth was he _thinking_?! Okay, it was close to the truth, but it _was _so totally out beyond the realm of normal. There was no _way_ her brothers would believe that.

To her dismay, they were almost as amused by her reaction as Héctor was, though probably not for the same reason. They exchanged looks. "One point for this one." "Has a pretty accurate assessment of that cat."

"Points? How many do I need to pass?" Héctor asked.

"Far too many to count." Imelda retorted before either of her brothers could. Then she glared at her brothers. "And you two be quiet about Pepita. She is a perfectly nice cat."

"Nice to you." Felipe muttered. Óscar nodded in agreement. "She hates everyone else."

Imelda rolled her eyes, even if that was true. Folding her arms, she sat back in her chair. "She just has high standards. That's all."

They ignored her, though Héctor chuckled softly. She eyed him carefully, wondering just what his game was. As if he could hear her thoughts, Héctor winked. Then he turned his attention to the brother on his left. "I don't know about everyone, Óscar, but I _do _know she wants to eat _me_."

Imelda was about to make another protest in defense of her cat, but then her brain caught what Héctor had just said. The twins noticed the same thing, judging by how they straightened in their seats. He had identified one of them and had done so correctly.

"Wait. What was that?" Felipe demanded.

"What is what, Felipe?" Héctor turned to the other twin, all innocence.

"_That_!" Óscar replied this time, leaning forward.

He looked back and forth between them for a moment and then at Imelda. She was just as curious as her brothers, though she was almost positive that his innocent act was still just an act. So she clarified. "They're identical twins. You can tell them apart."

"Exactly!" "No one else can." "Except Imelda." "And _Mamá y Papá_." "_Papá_ can't half the time." "_Mamá_ has trouble when she's mad at us." "Which is a lot of the time." "But you just met us."

"So how can you tell us apart?" They finished together.

Héctor had been switching his attention from one twin to the other as each spoke. The corners of his mouth were twitching. "Well, it's really very simple. I'm surprised more people don't realize." His voice was oh so cheerfully bland as he pointed at one of them. "Óscar has bushier eyebrows."

The three of them gaped for a moment. Then Imelda snorted and had to cover a grin with one hand. The twins eyed each other, clearly trying to judge the truth of that statement. Imelda had a strong suspicion what he'd said was a lie, however. It had to be. There must be some other reason. Maybe something only a vampire could tell?

Héctor looked quite satisfied to have stunned the twins. Or was it because he had managed to make her almost laugh? She got the feeling it was the later. He winked again and grinned. Imelda tried to give him an unimpressed look, but try as she might she couldn't stop the corners of her lips from turning up as well.

Suddenly, to both Imelda's and Héctor's surprise, Óscar and Felipe were leaning right up in Héctor's face, eyes narrowed. He leaned back as far as his chair allowed, eyes alarmed. "What is it,_ chama…_ ACK!" he slapped at their hands. "Get your fingers out of my mouth! I don't know where you've been!"

"What are you two doing?" Imelda asked, bewildered by their suddenly odd behaviour.

"We wanted to see how they were fitted." "We have never seen any that looked so real before."

_How what are fitted? Looked real?_ She wondered for a moment. Then she realized what they were talking about. Héctor's fangs. His very much _real_ fangs. The twins wanted to see how a vampire's fangs were _fitted_. Once she realized that, Imelda literally face-palmed.

It seemed Héctor was a little slow on the uptake though. Either that or he was just trying to play dumb. "I… I have no idea what you two are talking about." He chuckled nervously, keeping his lips over his teeth. Looking towards Imelda, he said "Your brothers are such jesters, _Señorita _Imelda."

It was the twins' turn to give unimpressed looks. They were starting to not believe his act either. It looked like there was no help for it. They would have to tell them what Héctor actually was. Things were about to get interesting.

Not that they weren't already. Or needed to get any more.

"They look real because they _are _real, _idiotas_. He is a vampire." Imelda never thought she would actually ever say that out loud. It just was not a rational idea. There weren't supposed to _be _vampires. And it made her wonder if other _things_ were real too. As she spoke, Héctor was trying to shake his head subtly enough that the twins wouldn't notice. Imelda rolled her eyes at that and retorted "They aren't stupid. They were about to figure it out anyway."

Héctor gave up trying to be subtle and groaned. Rather dramatically, truth be told. "We're not supposed to just go around _telling _people."

"You told me." She pointed out.

He gave her a slightly annoyed look. "I didn't really get a choice." He said as he held up his now entirely healed hand. At least Imelda assumed that was the hand that had been burned by the sun. There was no trace of the injury left now.

Before Imelda could say anything to that, there were two snorts of laughter. Oh. Right. They didn't have time to argue semantics.

Óscar and Felipe were giving thoroughly skeptical looks. "Really?" "Did you really think we…" "…would believe _that_?" "Honestly Imelda…" "Vampires aren't real." "They're made-up." "Like vitamins."

Then Óscar got a rather horrified look on his face and he turned to his brother. "You don't think this is some new roleplay kink she's getting into?"

Felipe stared back, equally horrified. "Why would you say that?! That is our _sister_! We don't need that image in our heads!"

"Of course not! I don't even want to consider the possibility…" "Then why bring it up?!" "You have to admit that it would explain things." "LA LA LA! I'm not hearing this!"

"BOTH OF YOU JUST STOP TALKING!" Imelda shouted as she jumped to her feet, absolutely red in the face from embarrassment. She could _not_ believe her brothers would ever think she had some kind of vampire fetish. She was _not_ that kind of woman! She took a deep breath, refusing to even look in Héctor's direction. She dreaded to imagine what _he_ was thinking about the turn in conversation.

A small part of her started to point out that Héctor wasn't exactly all that bad looking. He was sort-of handsome in his own way. Yes, him ending up in her house unexpectedly made it a little weird, but surely if they had met elsewhere she might consider… Imelda quickly and thoroughly beat that part back with a mental boot. She was _not _going there.

There was a moment of silence that no one wanted to break. At least no one human that is.

"You… you don't think I'm real?" Héctor asked quietly. When Imelda finally looked at him again, she wasn't sure if his confused expression was him being oblivious to the turn in conversation (perhaps he was politely ignoring it) or he actually couldn't fathom people not believing he was a vampire. How could he not know that most people didn't believe in such things anymore?

She wondered how many people he had told. It couldn't be _that _many. If his reaction to her telling the twins was anything to go by, he didn't exactly go around shouting it from the rooftops. Then again, if it had become widely known that vampires were real, they wouldn't be considered myths or legends. Evil creatures only found in stories or movies.

The twins glanced at each other and then at Héctor. "Obviously _you're _real, Héctor." "But vampires aren't." "They're just stories." "To scare _niños_."

"We are too real." Héctor insisted.

"Oh, yeah?" Felipe said as both brothers crossed their arms in challenge. Óscar added "Prove it."

Héctor frowned. "I will." He slapped both hands on the table as he stood up.

And transformed into a bat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviews:** _Ladyofthelake13_ \- I know I am. Though you may notice that the mid chapter break could also be seen as a bit cliff hanger ish. I will say that this chapter was already written before you posted so reading your review really made me giggle and think "Boy are you right!". _Julie (Guest)_ \- Thank you! I'me glad you've enjoyed it so far.

**Note:** This chapter is going to be a bit of an info dump. I wanted to flesh out some of what my version of a vampire is. Like I said last chapter, it is going to be similar to _Children of the Night_. There is also going to be a dig at another popular vampire series. I don't think I'll need to say which one. One more thing. This chapter is also a bit of an experiment. I'm actually posting from my phone through the moblie app. Hopefully this will work.

* * *

Óscar's and Felipe's eyes nearly bugged out of their skulls. Their mouths hung open loosely and she was pretty sure she could have knocked them over with a feather. Imelda wasn't much better herself. Yes, she knew Héctor could do such a transformation but she hadn't _seen_ it happen. It was nothing like how it might have been shown in a movie. There was no puff of smoke, no flash of light. There wasn't even a dramatic flourish of a cape, which Héctor wasn't wearing anyway.

One second there was a man, the next a bat.

The bat-Héctor chittered, sounding pleased, as he flapped his wings. He flew around the room twice, swooping over the heads of the twins and making them duck. He might have planned to do more than that, but Pepita came into the kitchen and Héctor dove for Imelda. She was secretly proud of the fact that she didn't flinch away when he came at her. Then, just as suddenly as there was a bat, Héctor was human shaped again.

He glared at the cat from over Imelda's shoulder and muttered "I _told_ you the devil cat wants to eat me."

Pepita gave a decisive _Meh_, switched her tail, and padded out through the cat flap onto Imelda's back porch.

Imelda, ignoring the pleasant shiver up her spine that the feel of his breath on her neck caused, raised a sardonic brow. She took a step away from him, as much to make it easier to see him as to put that little bit of distance between them. "I think you're safe." She paused. "For now."

He blinked a few times before grinning at her. "If you say so, _Señorita_ Imelda." And he gave an elaborate if exaggerated bow, looking all the more ridiculous due to the tattered state of his clothes and bare feet. She sniffed, pretending to not be impressed as she went to sit down again. Héctor tucked her chair under her as she sat down. Imelda didn't comment on the old-fashioned courtesy.

The twins were still clearly in shock over the demonstration. Imelda gave them a long stare and finally said blandly "You wanted him to _prove it._ Now shut your mouths before a bird comes along and tries to feed you."

That snapped them out of their daze. _"Dios…" "…mio."_ "He turned into a bat." "Scientifically that shouldn't be possible." "That shouldn't be possible period." "Evidently it _is _possible. We both saw it." "I know!" "So did Imelda." "I _know_." Then the two looked at each other and said in unison "We should do some experiments."

"_No_! No experiments!" Imelda interrupted quickly. "Not in _my_ house." While she was a little relieved they were more curious than freaked out by all this, that particular word from her brothers' mouths always spelled trouble.

"But _Imelda_…" They both whined.

She glared. "Héctor is not some lab animal you can poke and prod. Besides, do you two think I've forgotten about what happened to the shed?"

The twins wilted under her glare and suddenly couldn't meet her eyes. A hand touched her shoulder and Imelda turned to look at Héctor. He had remained standing behind her. There was a wary but curious expression on his face.

"Dare I ask about what happened to the shed?"

Imelda gave him a very long look before answering in a calm voice "They blew up our parents' back shed trying to make underwater fireworks."

Héctor's eyes widened and his eyebrows disappeared into his hair. He looked towards the twins. Óscar and Felipe were examining the table as if it was the most fascinating thing ever. Both had chagrined looks on their faces.

"It was an accident." One finally muttered. Then the other added "We miscalculated the amount of gunpowder." "We didn't know nitroglycerin was so volatile." "And we didn't realize how fast the thermite would burn." "We were only thirteen at the time."

With each word, Héctor's expression grew more and more alarmed. He glanced at Imelda for confirmation and she nodded. He gulped and said "Right. I'm going to agree with _Señorita_ Imelda and say no experiments." The twins looked crestfallen and Héctor seemed to relent a little. "But I guess I could answer a few questions."

"**_Really_**?!" They cried with excited grins.

Imelda groaned. It looked like there wasn't going to be any work done today. There was no way she could leave the three of them unattended. That was just asking for trouble.

And she couldn't help being a little curious too.

* * *

Apparently, being willing to answer questions convinced the twins that Héctor was _safe_ now. Felipe moved into the seat Héctor had been sitting in, leaving a chair closer to Imelda free. He reached for his mug of coffee before taking the new seat. Óscar and Felipe looked at each other for several minutes, obviously conferring silently as to what the first question should be.

"So what is it like…" "…being a thousand year old vampire?"

Héctor chuckled. "I wouldn't know. Since I'm not a _thousand_ years old."

"Oh, you aren't?" "Are you 900?" "800?" "600?"

With each guess, Héctor shook his head. Imelda sensed that he was going to let her brothers continue to guess for as long as possible. Which would probably take hours. She decided that was too much of a waste of time. So she cut in. "How old _are _you, exactly, then?"

He made a face at her, clearly put out that she was ruining his fun. "Well, I have to think about that for a moment. Let's see…" He looked up at the ceiling, tapping his cheek thoughtfully. "If I recall correctly… I was born around the turn of the century." He looked back at them and added "The one before, not this last one. So that would make me… just over a hundred years old. Maybe closer to 120. Still pretty young for a vampire."

A hundred and twenty years. Héctor had been, well, _alive_ for a hundred and twenty years. It was so strange to think that. He would have been around for so much change. Going from horse-and-buggy to the car. The airplane and the space race. Computers and the internet. Disco.

The mental image of Héctor in a leisure suit _dancing_ to _Saturday Night Fever_ nearly made Imelda laugh. She held back though. She didn't need any of them, her brothers especially, thinking she was crazy. Or crazier, since she _did _have a vampire sitting in her kitchen being questioned by her brothers.

"Why aren't you asleep right now?" "Don't vampires sleep during the day?"

"Do humans go to sleep as soon as the sun sets?" Héctor asked back. He shot a quick glance at Imelda. "I will have to sleep at some point, but right now it's no different than any of you staying up late into the night."

"Just as long as you stay out of the sun." she pointed out. Then she added to her brothers "That part of the stories is true." Imelda grimaced as she remembered the burned meat smell and the terrible burn on Héctor's hand. She couldn't help the bit of guilt she felt for her part in it happening, even though she couldn't have predicted that the curtain would move right at the same time that she was trying to make Héctor leave.

Óscar and Felipe looked thoughtful and perhaps a little disappointed to hear that. "Oh. So you don't really sparkle?"

Héctor snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. "No. _That _is the _worst_ representation of vampires I have ever come across." He made a face. "I will admit there are some who _would_ dump a tub of glitter on themselves just for the aesthetic. But I assure you that no real vampire actually _sparkles_."

This lead to further questions about what was and wasn't true about vampires. Thresholds, which Imelda already knew about. During the explanation of how Héctor arrived in Imelda's house, there was another round of _Pepita is the devil cat. _The twins quickly figured out that Héctor was the rat Imelda had thrown her mug at. They laughed at that and again at Héctor's complete offense at being called a rat.

The mirror myth was partly true. Héctor wasn't visible in old silver-backed mirrors. But since modern mirrors were backed with aluminum, they worked just fine. Film containing silver was also why vampires didn't show up in photographs. When asked about digital cameras, Héctor wasn't sure. Óscar and Felipe begged Imelda to let them try it until she finally gave in. Using their smartphone, it was discovered that digital photos were just like modern mirrors. Héctor was fascinated, especially by some of the filters and gimmicky things that could be added. Imelda took the phone away before he broke it.

Garlic was only true because vampires had enhanced senses which made the smell of it overpowering. Héctor pointed out the same was true for onions, herbs, and perfumes.

Religious objects depended on the vampire. Some avoided them and others weren't bothered at all. For himself, Héctor had just shrugged and, in his own words, had nothing to fear from the Son of God since he considered himself still Catholic. Though he did admit that it had been a long time since he'd last confessed.

Weapons made of silver or wood, a wooden stake or silver bullet for example, could harm or even kill a vampire. Coffins were only bad theatrical props. Vampires stopped aging once Turned. Being bitten didn't automatically make one a vampire. There was more required, but Héctor kept rather vague on the details.

The questions moved away from vampires in general and more on Héctor in particular. What did he do when he… wasn't doing vampire things? Not a lot, apparently. He was very well read; perhaps not too surprisingly, since public libraries made excellent places to spend the day. Movie theaters and playhouses were close seconds. Héctor had a plethora of stories about sneaking into such places and avoiding getting caught. Imelda wondered how much of _that_ was true, especially the one about him disguising himself as Frida Kahlo and having it actually work.

Then Felipe asked about before he became a vampire. What had he done then?

Héctor hesitated. Imelda couldn't help but suspect that he had been involved with something that he wasn't exactly proud of. Since the aging thing was true, that meant Héctor had been in his twenties when he became a vampire. And that would have also been around the time of the Revolution. That hadn't been a pleasant time for anyone. But to Imelda's surprise, Héctor answered "Oh… I was a musician… sort of…"

That wasn't the kind of answer she expected. It didn't fit in with the hesitation or the slightly uncomfortable look. There was nothing wrong with being a musician after all.

"A musician?" "Were you any good?"

"Eh… you could say so, I guess." Héctor shrugged with false nonchalance. "Didn't get a chance to become famous. A few of my songs did, but not because of me." That last part was said more as a mutter. Imelda thought he hadn't meant to say it out loud. He drained the last of his coffee in a single gulp and fixed his gaze firmly on the table, not looking at any of them.

The twins didn't seem to notice his discomfort or faintly sour expression. Instead, they remained interested in this new information. "You were a songwriter too?" "Who did you write for?" "Would we know any of your songs?"

But Héctor looked less and less happy about the turn of conversation. There was clearly something about this part of his past that he _really _didn't want to talk about. Something he wanted to forget, maybe?

"Óscar. Felipe." Imelda said abruptly. She gave them a warning look. The two could be a little too relentless sometimes. The grateful glance Héctor shot at her sealed her decision to change the subject. She took on her usual brisk and businesslike manner as she stood up. "Enough questions. It's nearly time for lunch."

Her brothers probably would have protested except that Héctor spoke before they could. "An excellent idea, _Señorita_ Imelda. I know you must be hungry. You haven't eaten anything yet today." He grinned at the twins, putting on his cheerful mask. Imelda didn't think too closely about how she knew it was a mask. "Never argue with a sister, _chamacos_. Especially if she's hungry."

"Did you have a sister?" The question was out before Imelda could stop herself. She hadn't intended to pry any further into his past. Especially since it was obvious there were sensitive things there.

"Not exactly." He replied. At least he didn't sound upset or uncomfortable with her question. "I was an orphan, but I had… a friend who I thought of as family. Her name was Socorro." His expression turned reminiscent. "We used to always treat each other like brother and sister."

_Had a friend. Used to_. Héctor was talking in the past tense. This was someone from long ago. Someone he had known, had cared about, but was now gone. Someone he had had to leave behind?


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviews:** _Ladyofthelake13_ – I couldn't help but make the dig at Twilight. I was also referencing a Tumblr post I've seen too. And Yes, Imelda can totally read him like a book. _Toons Girl_ – You and Ladyofthelake both made guesses on how Héctor became a vampire. All I'm going to say is that you'll just have to wait and see ^_^ _jinxedtodeath_ – I don't have a schedule for posting yet. I don't want to commit to that until I get most of this written. I'm very close so don't worry!

**AN:** Soo… Can't really think of anything to put as Author notes. I guess I'll just move on to the next chapter!

* * *

To avoid the awkwardness of having to sit there while Imelda and her brothers ate, Héctor asked her permission to watch television instead. One of the twins asked in a joking manner if he knew how to work a TV. Héctor fired back that it wasn't any harder than making fireworks and he could manage without causing a fire. At least her brothers took the jab with good grace.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Neither the twins nor Imelda were in the habit of talking while eating. Their _mamá_ had always discouraged mealtime conversations. Finishing first, Imelda set her dishes in the sink, told her brothers to wash up when they were done, and went to check on her _guest_. The twins made agreement noises, mouths still full with the last bites of their food.

Héctor had managed to turn the TV on. The sound was turned down and an episode of some children's cartoon was playing. Not something Imelda would have expected an adult to watch. Then again, maybe Héctor enjoyed the novelty of it. He had, after all, grown up in far different era than from the present. As for Héctor himself…

He was asleep.

Or at least Imelda thought he was asleep. Héctor had curled up on the end of the couch, long legs folded up in a way that didn't seem physically possible. His head was propped on one of the arms, eyes closed. And he was so still, Imelda could hardly see him breathing. _No wonder the stories say vampires appear dead when sleeping. _She thought.

Imelda took a moment to really look at him. His features were not what most people would call attractive, what with his thin face, prominent cheekbones, and ship's bow of a nose. _He could plow a field with that nose_ Imelda thought wryly. There was a youthfulness that matched his physical age, but also faint signs that spoke of his true age. Signs that were hidden by his expressions when awake, covered by the energy of his personality.

She didn't want to admit that she did find him appealing. She barely knew him after all. Not even half a day, really. He was a vampire, for God's sake. Not human, or rather no longer human. And she told herself that she wasn't looking to start a relationship. Besides, once the sun went down, Héctor would leave. He would go back wherever he came from and she would never have to see him again.

A part of her twisted up at that thought. She forced herself to ignore it.

Imelda picked up the remote from the floor where it had dropped and turned off the TV. Then she took the blanket that she kept folded on the back of the couch and spread it over Héctor. Maybe vampires didn't feel the cold as a normal person did, but Imelda did it anyway. She started to reach out to brush some of his messy hair out of his face, but pulled back at the last moment.

It was only when she stood up that she noticed her brothers standing in the kitchen doorway. She didn't want to think about why they looked speculative. Instead, she gestured for them to be quiet and headed to the workroom. Once the three were there, Imelda closed the door gently behind them.

"Imelda…" Óscar said hesitantly. He exchanged looks with Felipe for a moment and then Felipe continued. "Is everything all right?"

She looked from one brother to the other. "Why are you asking that now? Nothing about today has been _all right_."

Both shrugged and nodded in agreement. "True enough." "After all, it's not every day…" "…you have a vampire crashing on your couch." "Just saying that is weird." "_Really_ weird." "But that wasn't really what we meant."

"What _did_ you mean, then?" Imelda folded her arms. After all the so-called excitement of the morning, she wasn't in the mood for guessing games.

"Well… we couldn't help but notice…" "You've been awfully comfortable with Héctor." "_Sí_. More so than you usually are around…" "…strange guys?" "Well… strange guys who aren't customers." "Which is understandable considering what a _cabrón_ the last one was."

Imelda pursed her lips. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. Firstly, she hated any reminder of _that_ relationship. To say it had ended badly would be an understatement. And her brothers knew she didn't like talking about it. Secondly, there was nothing to talk about. She and Héctor weren't anything. Not friends, barely even acquaintances. Imelda was only giving him a place to stay for one day.

But her brothers were right about one thing. She _was_ more at ease around Héctor. At least once she got past the shocks of him being in her home and learning what he was. He made such an effort to seem likeable and harmless. Imelda had to keep reminding herself that he was a vampire.

"There is nothing for you two to worry over." She finally replied. "Besides, I thought you didn't want to think of such things." That was a surefire way to get them to drop it. Both shook their heads vehemently, Óscar cringing and Felipe glaring at his brother. Satisfied, Imelda nodded. "Then since there aren't any more distractions, we should get some actual work done."

But as she directed the twins to what tasks needed to be done, Imelda couldn't stop herself from wondering what Héctor's reaction to being called a distraction would be.

* * *

By late afternoon, a decent amount of work was done. Not as much as Imelda would have liked, but still enough for a half-day's worth of work. She and her brothers packed up the finished orders and carried them out to the twins' car. Óscar and Felipe were to deliver them before going home to their parents' home where they still lived. Before getting into the car both brothers turned to Imelda.

"Are you sure that you don't want us to stay?" Óscar asked.

Imelda raised an eyebrow. She understood what they were worried about. While it was reassuring that they were worried about her being alone with her guest, it _was_ a little late for them to change their minds. "I can handle myself." She thought about how she had reacted to first finding Héctor in her workroom and smiled. Yes, she could manage just fine.

The twins looked at each other and shrugged. "Just keep him away from your neck." Felipe said as they hugged her goodbye. Imelda rolled her eyes as she hugged them back. They got in the car and left.

Imelda watched as the car drove away. She felt was a strong sense of disconnection at that moment. It was strange to think, standing outside in the warm afternoon sunlight, that there was a creature of the night sleeping on her living room couch. It really emphasized the strangeness of the situation. Maybe she should have been worried about being left alone with a vampire. Maybe she should have asked her brothers to stay. Maybe this _really __**was**_ all just a dream.

Okay, probably not the last one. Imelda didn't think her subconscious would come up with anything like this. It just wasn't something she had ever dreamed about before. So why would she start now?

She shook her head and went back inside. A peek in the living room showed that Héctor hadn't moved a muscle. She wasn't sure if she had expected him to, though. After a moment of watching him, Imelda headed back into the workroom. She needed to tidy it up and maybe get the next order started.

Closing the door most of the way, she turned on the radio. She kept the volume low, just in case. The station was her favourite and one that played a mix of modern and older songs from decades past. Imelda hummed along as she cleaned to most of the songs, but sang those that were her favourites. She was so caught up between singing and her work that when a second, tenor, voice joined in, Imelda nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun to face the door.

Héctor was standing there, smiling slightly as he leaned against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest. His brown eyes were twinkling as he motioned for her to continue the next line. His expression faltered when she didn't.

"What's the matter?" He asked with head tilted to one side.

"Nothing." She answered tersely, rubbing her hands against her jeans. The truth was, she was a little embarrassed to be heard singing, even if this was her own home. She wasn't going to tell _him_ that, however. "I didn't think you be awake before sunset. _Lo siento _if I… disturbed you."

Héctor came further into the workroom, shrugging. "How can it be disturbing to wake to such an angelic voice?" He smiled again and gave her a bow.

Imelda rolled her eyes and snorted at the flowery words. That was laying it on a little thick. "You don't have to always lie, you know."

Her dismissal was clearly not what he expected. Héctor frowned slightly. "I'm not lying. You have a beautiful singing voice. You _do_." He insisted when she started to shake her head.

"No, I don't." Imelda spoke in a clipped tone, hoping he would drop it. There was nothing _beautiful _about her singing voice. It was too low, too rough, too… too… It just wasn't a good voice. She turned back to sweeping the floor. "I'm a little busy right now, Héctor."

She could see out of the corner of her eye that he hadn't moved. Héctor just stood watching her for a moment with a thoughtful expression. Imelda wasn't sure she wanted to know what he was thinking. So she tried to ignore his presence in the hopes that he would just go back to the living room.

"You know, I have heard so-called professional singers who just butcher anything they sing." He said after a moment. It seemed that _dropping it_ wasn't something Héctor knew to do. This was unfair Imelda thought, since she had gotten the twins to drop a subject she sensed Héctor didn't want to talk about. Imelda refused to dignify that by even looking in his direction. Apparently he didn't mind. "Oh, _sí_. Sometimes I wonder how they could ever get famous when they can't string two notes together in a sensible fashion. You, on the other hand… you have the gift, Imelda."

There was something in the way he said her name that sent a pleasant tingle along her skin. Like a soft caress. Imelda found herself pausing in her sweeping. A part of her wanted to believe him. Believe that she did have a singing voice that someone wanted to hear, despite what she had always believed. But the other part, the louder part, still wanted to deny it. That was the part that caused her to press her lips together for a moment.

"You and I have rather different definitions of what a gift is." To her own surprise, Imelda's words sounded more wistful than anything else. How _was _he able to affect her like this?

Héctor shrugged nonchalantly, yet at the same time looked amused by her reply. "Maybe, though I highly doubt it." He shifted slightly to rest his hip against the workbench. Imelda started sweeping again, but she was no longer pushing the broom with any real purpose. It was just so she wouldn't be tempted to look at Héctor. He didn't seem to notice. "Here's an idea. Why don't you sing me your most favourite song?"

That got her attention. "Sing my what?" Imelda glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Your most favourite song." Héctor repeated. He spread his arms in an expansive gesture. "Everyone has one. A song that the moment they hear it, they can't help but sing it. A song that makes you feel like nothing else in the world matters."

It was certainly a unique theory, Imelda gave him that. "And what might yours be?" she asked, thinking to distract him from the idea of _her_ singing.

Héctor chuckled. "Oh, that's easy." His grin became pure mischief and he winked before launching into song. "_**Everyone knows Juanita… her eyes each a different colour… her teeth stick out and her chin goes in… and her…**_"

"_That_ cannot your most favourite song." Imelda interrupted, giving Héctor a flat look. "Really?" Héctor's tenor was actually wonderful to listen to. Which was why it had taken Imelda longer than normal to realize exactly _what _song it was? Especially since she should have recognized such a bawdy tune right away. As the song says; _everyone _knows Everyone knows Juanita.

Instead of being offended, Héctor threw his head back and laughed. "You're right. But I do enjoy people's reactions when I sing it. Especially when they don't expect the child-friendly version." He paused and winked again. "Or vice versa as the case may be." Then he wagged a finger at her. "However, you sidestepped my question."

Drat him. He really was not giving up on this. Imelda gave a huff and turned away again. She was fully prepared to go on with ignoring him, but then the next song started on the radio. And she realized he was right.

Imelda decided to just go for it. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And when the music was right, she opened her mouth.

"_**Ay, de mí Llorona…**_"


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviews:** _Ladyofthelake13_ – No worries about a late review. And it really can't be a Coco Fanfic without the music.

**AN:** I have been looking forward to these next chapters almost from the beginning of this story idea. I really hope you all like it.

* * *

"…_**Llorona de azul celeste…**_" The words flowed easily, Imelda's alto covering the singer on the radio. It was an old song, but she liked it better than a modern one. She remembered being teased by her friends and classmates, even her brothers, for having 'old-fashioned' tastes. "_**Ay, de mí Llorona… Llorona de azul celeste…**_"

Imelda snuck a peek at Héctor. She was a little wary of what he thought, even though _he_ was the one to encourage her. And his expression was not one she expected to see.

Héctor looked stunned, mouth opened slightly in a silent _oh_. Then he slowly started to switch to a boyish half-smile. He looked so delighted that Imelda was encouraged to continue.

"_**Y aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona… No dejaré de quererte…**_" She felt the corners of her lips lift in a return smile as she began to relax. Normally, singing in front of _anyone _was the last thing Imelda wanted to do, even if it was just one person or just her family. In fact, she hadn't sung in front of another person since she was an adolescent. As the music swelled into a crescendo, so did Imelda add more feeling to the next line. "_**No dejaré de quererte!**_"

There was something freeing about doing this, she decided as she swayed to the music. "_**Me subí al pino más alto, Llorona…**_  
_**A ver si te divisaba…**_" Singing the next verse, Imelda twirled, the broom in her hand standing in for a partner. "_**Como el pino era tierno, Llorona… Al verme llorar, lloraba…**_"

Dancing was another thing Imelda hadn't done in years. Not since the last school dance she had gone to. _That_ night should have been one of the best. And it _was, _at least as far as school dances go. It was only what happened later that marred the memory for Imelda. Once out of school, she had been too busy setting up her business, as well as other things, to do much dancing. Then there was, well… _that_ whole thing.

Looking back now, she shouldn't have let _that_ stop her from doing things she liked. Even if she only did such things in the privacy of her own home, with Pepita as the only witness. Especially with Pepita as the only witness. Her cat could not, would not, tell anyone. Shoe making might be her chosen career, and she did love it, but that didn't mean she couldn't indulge in other things she liked from time to time.

"_**Ay, de mí Llorona… Llorona de azul celeste…**_" Imelda closed her eyes again as spun a second time. She almost wished that she had chosen to wear a skirt instead of jeans that morning. A skirt would have flared out, emphasizing these turns. Then again, she hadn't been thinking that she would be dancing later when she had gotten dressed. Jeans _were_ a more practical choice.

As she came out of the turn, Imelda had flung her arms wide. The broom was still in one hand. When she went to start the next turn, she was stopped short. Her eyes flew open to see Héctor holding the broom as well, his hand covering hers.

"_**Ay, de mí Llorona…**_" His voice joined in, tenor blending with alto. Héctor grinned at her, showing his fangs though Imelda hardly noticed them. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt the song. If he wanted to join in, she wasn't going to complain. With deft ease he took the broom away, setting it aside with one hand as he drew Imelda closer with the other. Imelda raised her arms to the proper dance position. His was less so, his hand coming to rest on her hip rather than her waist. "_**Llorona de azul celeste…**_"

The workroom wasn't an overly large room. It had been a second bedroom that Imelda had made into her workspace when she moved in. It should have been too crowded for dancing, yet Héctor easily spun and twirled her around the stacks of supplies, stools, and benches.

"_**Y aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona… No dejaré de quererte…**_"

It was at about that moment, as he swept her past the buffing wheel, that Imelda met his eyes...

And the world fell away…

The music, the room, the dance… Even Imelda's own singing faded away. She still sensed all those things, but it was all at a distance. She could still hear the radio, but it was faint. She was still dancing, but she was no longer consciously directing her movements, only going where Héctor was guiding her. The room was still there, she could smell the scent of leather and shoe polish, but she just… couldn't look away from Héctor's eyes.

Those… _beautiful_… crimson eyes…

Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. Only those eyes. As long as Imelda could stare into those eyes… the house could catch fire, there could be a war going on around her, the universe could come to an end, and Imelda wouldn't care in the least.

She should have been angry. Imelda was not a woman who gave up control without a fight. She should have been scared. This was absolutely not anything like her at all. She should feel _something_… Except there was no room for thought or emotion whatsoever. She couldn't think period. Imelda couldn't even say she knew her own name at the moment.

Only those eyes…

Very vaguely she heard the song come to an end. The dance ended with her tucked against Héctor's side. He had one arm around her waist and the other flung out in a dramatic pose. As the last note faded away, he smile down at her and Imelda could see his lips move. But she was still so caught by his eyes that she couldn't hear what he has said. She just continued to stare at him, mouth slightly open.

When she didn't answer whatever he had said, the smile faded from his face. He mouthed something else and a look of alarm crossed his face. Then he closed those wonderful eyes…

And Imelda was free again.

* * *

She shook her head, bringing one hand up to rub her temple. Her head was all in a muddle and there was a fuzzy feeling that was at least quickly fading. Something… something had happened while she and Héctor had danced together. Something that, for the life of her, she couldn't recall. In fact Imelda couldn't even remember how that dance had ended.

That wasn't normal. Not at all. Such forgetfulness had never happened to her before. Yes, she _had_ forgotten things, but in the normal way the average person does. Misplaced her keys, missed picking up something from the store. Never forgotten an entire period of time. Not like _that_.

Shaking her head again, Imelda turned to Héctor. "What… what was that?"

He was again in that kicked-puppy stance. The same one from this morning when she realized what he was in the first place. And he wasn't meeting her eyes. "That… that was… _Lo siento_, Imelda. I didn't mean for that to happen. It was accidental, I swear."

His eyes were brown once more. Even though he wasn't looking directly at her, Imelda could see that much. _That_ was the only thing she could remember from that blank period. Héctor's eyes. Except they hadn't been brown. No, they had been a very different colour.

Red. Crimson red. The same colour as fresh blood.

"Héctor. What did you do to me?" she asked, trying to keep wariness from her voice. And not say anything about lying to her. She was going to give him the benefit of a doubt first. And trust his promise of not harming her. It would be much easier the judge the truth of what he was about to tell her if he would just look at her though.

"I… I enthralled you…" he answered after a long moment. There was embarrassment and perhaps shame in his expression. He fidgeted with the ragged end of his sleeve. "It's, ah… an ability vampires have."

Imelda thought about that for a moment. She could accept that, she supposed. "You can hypnotize someone." She said that as a statement, not a question. Héctor shrugged and rocked one hand back and forth. Imelda shifted her weight slightly. "Why would you need to do that?"

Héctor cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It _is_ easier if one's, uh… food… doesn't try to run away… or fight back… or scream…"

Oh.

Until that moment, Imelda hadn't put much thought into that. Yes, she realized Héctor drank blood. That, as a vampire, he _fed_ on people. It was what had caused her fear the first moment she learned what he was. Yet, she was pretty sure he _hadn't _tried to feed on her. He had said it had been an accident. And he was acting so embarrassed about it.

"I see how that might be a problem." Imelda said, determinedly keeping her hand from covering her neck. She was not going to show she was concerned about that. At least her words got a dry chuckle out of Héctor.

"It is terribly distracting." He swept a hand through his hair and let out a breath. "I_ am_ sorry for doing that. I usually have better control over the… that part of myself. _Lo siento_."

That was the third apology within the last five minutes. And while Imelda appreciated the fact he was apologetic, this was getting a little ridiculous. "_No es nada_. I believe you." She hesitated a moment, not sure if she _should _ask the next question. Could she handle the answer? Either answer? "Was it because you… need to… _feed_?"

Something flashed across Héctor's face too quickly for Imelda to identify and when he spoke, it was a hair too fast. "No! No, I'll be fine. It's not that long until dark. There's no need… It'll be just fine for me to wait…"

"But it would make things easier." She put in, cutting off his babbling and giving him a knowing look. "To keep in control of yourself." There was another flash of an expression, not quite as quickly hidden, which this time she could identify as _hunger_. Imelda suppressed a shiver. Was she really going to consider…? Well, she _had_ opened this can of worms and couldn't back down now. She was too stubborn for that. She just hoped it didn't have to be her neck. Her brothers would be suspicious if there was so much as a pimple or bug bite there.

Héctor swallowed hard. "I made a promise not to hurt you." There was strain in his voice but a look of stubborn determination on his face now. "I_ promised_ and I won't go back on that promise."

Well, well, well. Despite his claims to the contrary, Héctor really _did_ have more than a shred of honour. Imelda couldn't help the small smile. It warmed her that Héctor would rather fight himself than give in to such a base instinct. "Is it really going back if I am offering?" He looked at her, startled, and Imelda folding her arms. "What? You think I'm going to be squeamish about a bit of blood? _Please_, women see more blood than men ever do."

Héctor's cheeks and ears turned pink as he coughed. "That is a… _fair_ point." The hand holding his wrist tightened for a moment. "And as much as I appreciate the offer, Imelda, I'm afraid that… I can't… I_ won't _feed on someone I ca…"

At that moment the radio, which was still playing in the background, changed songs. The new song was also an old one, but still quite popular. In fact, one would have to have been living under a rock _not_ to have heard _some_ version of it. The upbeat and festive music was matched by a boisterous baritone that belted out, "_**Remember me… though I have to say goodbye…**_"

There was an instant change in Héctor. The slightly flustered yet determined look vanished. A dark scowl marred his face and the next thing Imelda knew, he was across the room to where the radio sat on a shelf. The machine let out a squawk as his fist came down on it, hard enough to crack the plastic case. A second later, it was sent crashing to the floor with a sweep of his arm.

Héctor let out a harsh breath and muttered "Excuse me" before stalking out of the room.

Imelda was left standing in shock, staring at the broken wreckage of her radio and the empty place where her vampire guest had just been, wondering just what the Hell had just happened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Reviews:** _Lluvia-the-Wolfgirl_ – Yup. And I was pretty much going for this dance to be the same as the one Imelda and Ernesto do in the movie, except with a slightly different ending of course ;) _Johnlocked221B_ – They were Very cute! _Ladyofthelake13_ – Oh, he was so close. And Imelda is definitely getting close to that as well.

**AN:** Yes! Ernesto _sooooooo_ has the ability to ruin things even when he's not there! Also, you may notice that I've changed a couple of relationships around here. I hope it's not too confusing.

* * *

A few seconds later, the shock faded and was replaced with anger. He had broken her radio. Héctor had destroyed something that was _hers_. For no reason! How dare he!? She had allowed him into _her_ home, gave him shelter for the day, and _this_ is how he repaid her? Vampire or not, she was going to give him a stout piece of her mind for _this_!

A tiny voice in the back of her mind warned against provoking him any further. Héctor was truly angry about something. If he turned that rage on her, there really was _nothing _she could do to defend herself. He was a vampire, a creature more dangerous and deadly than any human. He could kill her easily if she pissed him off enough.

Imelda ignored that voice. Firstly, she was too angry to care. Secondly, she didn't believe that he _would _hurt her anyway. And not _just _because of the promise he made. He would have had every right to when she had inadvertently caused that burn this morning. Or over the fact she'd been hitting him with her slipper. Hell, he could have done anything to her when she was thralled and Imelda wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop him. She wouldn't even have known.

Still, the fact she trusted Héctor not to hurt her didn't give him free reign to destroy her things. Especially over something as stupid as a song.

So she stormed into the living room, mouth open and ready to tell him off for what he'd done. Except the sight of him on her couch (shoulders hunched, head in his hands, fingers raked in his hair) made her pause. He was clearly brooding, or perhaps berating himself, over what just happened. Imelda thought it might be more the second option when she caught what he was muttering to himself.

"… Stupid, stupid… after all this time… _still_ letting him get to you like that… _idiota_…"

That caught her off guard. Clearly this was more than just some silly song Héctor didn't like. Then Imelda remembered something. "_You were a songwriter too?_" "_Who did you write for?_" "_A few of my songs did, but not because of me._"

And she remembered exactly _whose_ voice had been belting out the song that caused Héctor's reaction.

_Was_ it possible? Could this man sitting on her couch really be the one responsible for the most famous song in all of México? It seemed impossible. But after everything else she had learned in the last 24 hours, Imelda wasn't sure she would claim _anything _was impossible.

"I didn't mean to lose my temper." Héctor said quietly as Imelda tried for something to say. His tone was level and even, but she could sense a welter of hidden emotion under it. He hadn't moved or even glanced in her direction. Still, she wasn't surprised that he knew she was there. "I'll… I'll find a replacement for your radio… somewhere…"

"I should hope so." She replied, adding a hint of teasing to her voice to mitigate the bite of her words. "It cost nearly 600 _pesos_." Imelda came around the side of the couch and sat next to Héctor. He still didn't look at her, only continued to bore a hole in the floor with his eyes. His mouth was drawn in a tight thin line that didn't really belong on his usual mobile and expressive face. After a moment of silence, Imelda said "_You_ were the one to write Remember Me."

It was not a question and they both knew it.

Héctor made a sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh except that it was far too bitter and harsh. "Don't be ridiculous. Everyone _knows _Ernesto de la Cruz wrote all his own songs." He rolled his eyes and turned his head away from her, leaning his elbow on the arm of the couch and planting his chin in his hand. "He was the greatest musician of all time, after all." Those words were said scathingly, not with the usual admiration most people had when speaking about the famous _músico_.

"He may have had the greatest eyebrows of all time, but I always found his style to be more than a little pretentious." Imelda replied. It was true. She could admire the songs in and of themselves, but she could take or leave the singer.

Héctor glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and a tiny smile twitched at his lips. "I wish he could hear you say that. Such words, especially from a beautiful woman, would make his big fat head just explode."

Imelda ignored the warm feeling she got when he called her beautiful. This wasn't the time to get distracted. "You knew him well then?" A pained look crossed his face and he looked away again. Imelda studied his profile for a moment. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"It's…" Héctor sighed, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "It's not exactly a pleasant story to tell."

"It probably isn't," she said with a nod, "since I suspect it has something to do with…" She trailed off, not sure it was polite to say what she was thinking.

"How I became a vampire?" he finished. He hitched a shoulder in a half-shrug. "Yes and no. He wasn't the one that Turned me, but his actions…" his free hand curled into a fist as he glared at the far wall. "They resulted in as much."

Imelda realized that Héctor truly hated Ernesto de la Cruz. Whatever it was that had happened between the two men had to have been a terrible betrayal. More than de la Cruz using Héctor's song without giving the proper credit. It was a wound that still hurt Héctor to this day.

She reached over and covered his fist with one hand. Héctor didn't twitch at the touch, didn't pull away, but he look down at their joined hands with wide eyes. "Like I said, you don't have to tell me. But when you're ready, I'll listen." She squeezed his hand and started to pull away.

He caught her hand gently before she could take it out of reach. Watching her face carefully, Héctor brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers lightly. Imelda fought back a blush and the tingling along her skin that the courtly gesture caused. "_Gracias_. It means more than you know to hear you say that." He loosened his hold on her hand and sighed. "I just do not know where to start."

Imelda kept her hand in his, squeezing it once more. Dryly she teased, "At the beginning is always a good idea." That made Héctor chuckle softly. Imelda was pleased with herself to have drawn him out of his funk, even if it was only temporary.

"_The beginning_, huh? I suppose that would do…"

* * *

Héctor paused a moment to collect his thoughts. Imelda waited patiently. She wasn't going to push him since she knew exactly what it was like to relive painful memories. Finally he asked "Do you remember the girl I mentioned earlier?"

"The one you thought of as a sister? Socorro, right?" Imelda answered. Perhaps she was the root cause of what happened. Perhaps Ernesto de la Cruz had done something to this Socorro. And _that_ lead to Héctor becoming a vampire? As cliché as it was, that could be the answer.

"_Sí_, Coco." He nodded as his expression softened and his eyes went distant. Imelda ignored the slight twinge she felt at his expression. "We grew up in the same orphanage, she and I. But she wasn't the only one there that I used to think of as family. There was a boy, too. A few years older than me. His name was Ernesto." The soft look faded, though the distant one remained.

"De la Cruz." Imelda murmured to herself. That fit in with what was known about the famous _músico's_ early life and childhood. That he had been orphaned at a young age and grown up in an orphanage in some small town in the back of nowhere.

She hadn't meant to interrupt Héctor. She had thought she'd spoken quietly enough so as not to be heard. But clearly she had underestimated a vampire's hearing. "Oh, he didn't have _that _name back then. None of us had family names as children." He glanced briefly at her before continuing. "The Three _Amigos_, we were. Best friends. We did everything together. Chores, lessons, games."

"Caused trouble, too." Imelda put in with a smirk. She could easily imagine that. Héctor was very similar to her brothers and they had caused all sorts of mischief growing up.

"I neither confirm nor deny such an accusation." Héctor replied with a grin and a wink. Which was exactly the sort of response Óscar and Felipe would have given. Imelda rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Anyway. I always had a talent for music. The _Padre_, he taught me how to play the guitar. How to read and write music, too. And I taught everything I knew to 'Nesto and Coco." He paused once more, looking at the far wall again, but clearly not seeing it. "We'd go to the _plaza_ just about every day. 'Nesto and I would take turns on this old guitar we'd found, and Coco would dance. We'd put on little shows for people, earn a few _pesos_ for ourselves." He gave a heavy sigh. "Everything seemed so perfect back then."

Imelda waited a moment as he fell silent. Finally she asked "What happened?"

Héctor shrugged. "What happens to every child. We grew up. 'Nesto came of age, left town for a while. Just before it was my turn, he came back. Had this idea that we should go out on the road. Tour the country. Make names for ourselves." Héctor snorted softly. "Become famous."

"So the three of you left town together." Imelda said slowly, becoming more and more sure that her initial guess was going to be correct. To her surprise, Héctor shook his head.

"Oh, no. Coco didn't go with us. Remember, it was a different time, Imelda. The nuns wouldn't allow it. A young woman, _unmarried_, travelling in the company of two men, neither of which was her husband or real family? It would've ruined Coco's reputation." He hastily added "Not that anything would've happened!"

Oddly enough, Imelda believed him. No matter what anyone at the time thought, she was sure that Héctor would have done everything in his power to keep this Coco safe. Still, she couldn't imagine letting anything like that stop _her_ from doing what she wanted. She was too headstrong. It was probably a good thing she lived in the time period that she did. "Did Coco have anything to say about that?"

"Not much. Just that she didn't want to hold us back. That we _should _go. And Ernesto… he was _so sure_ that now was the time to_ seize our moment_…" Héctor's face twisted up as he said the phrase. As if the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Perhaps they did. He sighed again and shook his head. "So we left."

Imelda wondered why, in all that was known about Ernesto de la Cruz's life, there was never any mention that he'd had a partner in those very early days. Not that she didn't believe Héctor. She _did_. But why did no one remember this bit of information when so much of the _músico's_ journey to stardom _was _known. "Then what happened? Did you and de la Cruz have a falling out?"

Héctor gave her an amused glance. "That's one way to put it. We must have been on the road two, three, years. But all that it showed me was that it wasn't the kind of life I wanted. Always on the move. Never staying anywhere for more than a couple of weeks. Living out of a suitcase. Playing for strangers." He shuddered dramatically. "_No __buena_."

"How was playing for strangers any different than what you were doing as children?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. She would have thought Héctor would revel in the act of performing.

"That was small crowds!" he pointed out. "In our hometown and with people we knew. People who knew us. Not preforming on a stage like a pair of monkeys for hundreds of _strangers_!" Héctor made a face at the idea. Then he ran a hand through his hair. "Ernesto loved it, but me? I wasn't cut out for it. I was homesick. I missed… our hometown, the people there. Even the nuns and the other children at the orphanage…"

"And Coco." Imelda added, noticing the one thing he had skipped over. She felt that twinge again. And she ignored it again as well.

Héctor hesitated a second. "_Sí._ I tried to write to her whenever I could. But we moved around too much to get any letters back. Ernesto and I started to get into arguments. _He_ felt that I was giving up on our dream." He gave a derisive bark of laughter. "_Our_ dream. It was never _our_ dream. It was always _his_! The only reason I was around was because he couldn't do it without my songs." He glanced at Imelda sideways. "Not that he phrased it exactly like that. Finally, I just couldn't take it anymore. I want to go home. So I packed up my things and bought a train ticket. I thought Ernesto was going to blow up when he realized I was serious about leaving. But he acted like he understood. Like he was okay with it. He even wanted to toast to our friendship."

The words were bitterly said and Héctor's voice cracked on the last word. He put his head in his hands for moment, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. Imelda wasn't sure if she should say anything at that moment. She sensed that the story was about to come to a head. That this was the moment that changed everything in Héctor's life. That this was what led to his current state.

Finally Héctor raised his head to look at her. His eyes were bleak and his expression almost haunted. "He poisoned my drink, Imelda. And I was too naïve… too blind…" his expression darkened, "too _estúpido_ to notice!"


End file.
